Jamie and the Horse Show Read online

  Helen Brain & Nicky Webb

  Illustrations by Rico Schacherl

  Human & Rousseau

  1

  Jamie needs a horse

  “You’ll never guess why I am late!” Jamie Waine called to Pan as she swung herself into the saddle of McTavish, the fat grey pony that belonged to the riding school. “My stupid little brother was locked in the bathroom, toilet training his monkey.”

  Pan burst out laughing. “Toilet training Bieber? Surely you can’t get a monkey to use the toilet.”

  “Tick thinks he can. My mom says if he can’t stop messing in the house he has to stay in his cage.”

  “Is it working?” giggled Pan as she mounted her beautiful black and white Pintabian, Whistle.

  “Nope. Bieber is only interested in flushing things down the loo.”

  “Right, everyone,” called Lee, the riding teacher. “Get your horses trotting on, in a twenty metre circle.”

  Jamie nudged McTavish. He bucked, almost throwing her off. She nudged him again. This time he stopped dead.

  Lee clicked her tongue. “Come on, Boy!” she called.

  But he ignored her. He ripped the reins out of Jamie’s hands and bolted towards the gate of the arena. Jamie screamed and lost her stirrups. She managed to hang on and grab onto his spiky mane.

  “Pull him up, Jamie!” yelled Lee. “He’s going to jump the gate!” At the last minute Jamie managed to reclaim the reins and pull McTavish to a halt. Her hands were shaking. She took a deep breath and put her feet back into the stirrups. McTavish was obviously in one of his bad moods. In fact, he only had two moods – bad and terrible.

  Pan was already trotting around the arena on Whistle, and that new blond girl on the glossy Chestnut mare was laughing at her. It wasn’t just her useless pony. Jamie was also the only kid in the advanced class who still rode in jeans. Pan and the new girl both looked stunning in beautifully fitted cream jodhpurs and black leather chaps. It just wasn’t fair.

  “Jamie, I’m sorry,” Lee said at the end of the lesson. “McTavish gets more cantankerous every day, but I just don’t have any other suitable horses for you to ride. I want you to enter the show, though. I’m sure you could win a rosette.”

  “I just wish I could buy my own horse,” Jamie said wistfully. “My mom said if I save up half she’ll pay the other half, but the horses that I like all cost at least fifteen thousand rand and I’m still nearly three thousand rand short.”

  “Even if you did have the money now you wouldn’t find a horse in time for the show. It’s a month away. I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with McTavish,” Lee said.

  “I am so fed up with riding this fat lazy lump,” Jamie grumbled to Pan as they put the saddles back in the tack room and hung up their bridles. She looked over enviously at the new girl. Her locker was full of matching pink tack – pink tendon boots, pink numnah, even a sparkly pink diamante brow band.

  Pan put her arm around Jamie’s shoulders. “Let’s go and talk to Oreo. That always cheers you up.”

  “I’ve got carrots for him,” said Jamie brightening up. Oreo was Jamie’s favourite horse. He belonged to a pretty German lady, Mrs Bunhoffer.

  Oreo was delighted to see them. He stuck his neck over the door and nuzzled their pockets looking for treats. Jamie laughed as she fed him the last one. “They’re all finished, you silly boy.”

  Oreo rubbed his soft, velvety muzzle against Jamie’s arm. He smelt like warm hay.

  “You like my horse?” a voice behind them said.

  “Oh, Mrs Bunhoffer,” Jamie exclaimed. “I hope you don’t mind. I gave Oreo some carrots.”

  Mrs Bunhoffer laughed. “He’s a greedy one. I think he likes you.” She stroked the horse’s nose. “Are you going to miss me when I’m gone?” she murmured to him. He pricked his ears and snorted softly. “What will you do without me for a whole month?”

  Jamie’s heart speeded up. She took a deep breath. She was going to be very cheeky, she knew, but she was desperate.

  “Excuse me, Ma’am, but do you maybe need someone to exercise Oreo while you’re away? I’d love to do it.”

  Mrs Bunhoffer narrowed her eyes and tapped her chin. “Hmm,” she said.

  Oh no, Jamie thought. I’ve gone too far. She’s going to yell at me.

  But instead the lady held out her hand. “I was going to ask Lee to ride him for me, but I’ve seen you riding that naughty little pony. You were very patient with him. I’ve never seen you overuse your whip. I know I can trust you with my Oreo, can’t I, my precious boy?” And she leaned over and kissed him on his nose.

  “Oh thank you, thank you!” Jamie exclaimed. She wanted to hug Mrs Bunhoffer, but she didn’t dare. “I’ll look after him, I promise.”

  “I’m going back to Germany soon,” Mrs Bunhoffer said. “I’m going to have to sell my Oreo. It will break my heart to leave him.”

  “Please, please can I buy him?” Jamie begged.

  Mrs Bunhoffer laughed. “Ach, my sweetie, he’s a registered Anglo Arab. I’m selling him for twenty thousand rand. Your mommy and daddy will never agree. Now come on, Boy, it’s time for your ride.” She led Oreo into the paddock. He stood quietly while she slid her foot into the stirrup and swung herself into the saddle.

  Jamie watched her canter around the paddock. Oreo was magnificent. His coat was a rich chocolate brown colour. He had white socks and a white blaze. He held his neck in a perfect arch as he responded to Mrs Bunhoffer’s commands. It was almost as if he was reading her mind. Oreo really was the best horse in the world. She had to buy him. She just had to.

  2

  Jamie makes a plan

  A short while later Jamie and Pan were sitting on a bench near the car park, waiting for Pan’s au pair to pick them up.

  “I can’t believe it,” Jamie grinned. “I just asked her and she said yes. I can’t wait to ride him. I’m going to ask Mom if I can come every day. And when Mrs Bunhoffer sees how well I handle him, she’ll give me a special price. I know.”

  “I hope so,” said Pan, opening her can of Coke. “Look, here comes the new girl. I wonder what her name is.”

  The girl came sauntering out of the stable yard. She was beautiful. She had long, silver-blonde hair tied in a thick plait, turquoise eyes and glowing skin.

  “Hiya,” she said lazily and leaned against the wall next to the girls’ bench. “I’m Shardonnay. What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing,” Jamie mumbled. She’d seen the girl laughing at her. She wasn’t going to be friendly.

  “Just chatting,” said Pan. “Would you like some Coke?” she held out her can.

  Shardonnay wrinkled her pretty nose. “Nah. Never touch the stuff. Makes you fat,” she said running her eyes up and down Jamie. “That your pony you were riding?”

  Jamie blushed. “No. He’s a school pony. McTavish.”

  “A school pony?” Shardonnay raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? Don’t you have your own horse?”

  “Not yet, but …”

  “Oh shame,” interrupted Shardonnay. “I couldn’t survive without my own horse. I’m leasing the Chestnut for now, but my dad’s going to buy me my own as soon as the right one comes along. He says the price doesn’t matter – I’ve just moved here from Jo’burg. My teacher said I’m so good I’ll be riding in the Olympics one day. Anyway, I’d better go. Here’s my mom.”

  She tossed her plait over her shoulder and walked off towards the SUV driving in through the gates. She turned around suddenly and looked at Jamie’s jeans. “By the way, nice jodhpurs.”

  Jamie felt the heat rising off her cheeks. She was furious.

  Pan patted her arm. “Just ignore her. She seems like a real cow.”

  “I HAVE t
o buy Oreo,” Jamie said. “I’m sick of being the riding school laughing stock. But where am I going to get three thousand rand. In fact, I need five thousand five hundred for Oreo. And that’s IF my mother sticks to her side of the bargain and pays the other half.”

  “Hmm,” Pan said. “Let’s think. You’ve already got a job working for your mom in the vet practice, right?”

  “Yes, only odd jobs every now and again. It will take me forever to earn that much.”

  “Have you got anything you can sell?”

  Jamie snorted. “You mean like my little brother? Or his monkey?”

  “No silly,” Pan giggled. “I mean like toys, or PC games or even clothes. People pay good money for them.”

  Jamie thought. Her room was a mess, but there must be some things she didn’t need anymore.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Pan said. “Let’s ask your mom if I can sleep over, and I can help you go through your stuff. Then we can advertise on Gumtree.”

  Over the fence Oreo whinnied, and Jamie smiled. “Oreo thinks that’s a great idea.”

  3

  Snotterbel Delight

  Jamie couldn’t wait to tell her mother the news about Oreo, but Arabella wasn’t in the mood. She’d had a long day in the vet practice and now the prof was late for dinner.

  “Where is your father?” she said, slamming the wooden spoon on the kitchen counter. “The supper is getting ruined and I made something special.”

  “Something especially disgusting?” asked Toby, rolling his eyes.

  “You know what?” said Arabella, ignoring her eldest child. “I think we should just start eating. Your dad is really late. Sit down kids, and I’ll dish up.”

  Jamie and Toby eyed the serving dishes suspiciously. The only one looking forward to dinner was the monkey. He leaped onto the table and snatched a fish finger from the dish.

  “Tick, you know you’re not allowed to have Bieber in here at meal times,” Arabella said irritably. “Take him out and shut the door.”

  “Where’d you put him?” Jamie asked when her little brother came back into the kitchen.

  “In the lounge. He’s watching Jackass.”

  Pan giggled. “You really put the TV on just for your monkey?”

  “Anything to keep him quiet,” said Arabella, dishing up the fish fingers. They were curling up at the edges and had lost their crumbs.

  “What happened to the fish fingers, Mom?” asked Jamie. “They look like they’ve got mange.”

  “Don’t be silly, Jamie,” Arabella said, plopping a wodge of grey stodge on each plate. “Fish fingers and mash. Your favourite.”

  “When I was five maybe,” Jamie said. “Before I tasted the food Pan’s chef cooks.”

  “Well, Pan’s chef doesn’t spend all day helping sick animals,” Arabella said with her lips tight. “And I bet you even Pan’s chef won’t have heard of the delicacy I’ve made tonight. Here it is, my piece de resistance,” she exclaimed, lifting the lid off the last dish. “Snotterbel!”

  The four children peered at the blob of murk lurking at the bottom of the dish.

  “Snotterbel?” Jamie said. “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “It’s an indigenous South African plant. It’s the new super food.”

  “It looks like parrot poo,” said Toby.

  “Where did you get it?” Jamie asked, prodding it with her fork. “Do they sell it at Pick n Pay?”

  “It grows outside the garage. I’ve been feeding it worm wee from my wormery and it’s growing like wildfire.”

  “Worm wee?” said Tick, looking a bit pale. “I don’t think I want to eat snot or worm wee.”

  “It’s not snot, Nicholas. It’s Snotterbel,” Arabella said firmly, passing the plates down the table. “And anyway, I washed it. Now tuck in everyone.”

  “Who’s that flushing the toilet?” Jamie asked as the water pipes clunked in the ceiling.

  Tick looked smug. “Bieber, of course. He’s getting the hang of it. This afternoon he did a number …”

  “Tick, that’s enough,” Arabella snapped. “We don’t want to hear about monkey bowel movements at dinner.”

  Before Tick could argue they heard the car pull up. Professor Waine came in at the back door, beaming.

  “Good evening, Family. I see you’ve already started. Good, good.”

  “We couldn’t wait any longer, Dear,” said Arabella in an icy tone. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  The prof looked at the sad array of dishes and gave a little belch. “Ah, no, Love. Too many pub nuts. Been at my college reunion. Super time. Super.”

  “Well,” said Arabella, “all the more for me then.” She flicked her napkin out as if it were a switch blade and attacked her meal with her knife and fork. The children watched her carefully as she chewed a mouthful of green sludge. Jamie waited till she wasn’t looking and tipped hers under the table, where Fungi, her dog, gobbled it up.

  “Ah, Tobias I have a gift for you, Boy.” The prof smacked Toby on the back so he nearly choked. “My old colleague, Dr Horeheck, has to go into a retirement home next week. Eccentric old chap. Gave me something that he can’t take with him.”

  “Poor old Dr Horeheck,” Arabella said as the prof trotted off to the garage. “Such an old dear, and all alone in the world. No family. No one to make him home cooked meals … I’ll go and visit him next week and take him some meatloaf.”

  Toby sniggered. “Are you trying to kill him off, Mom?”

  “About my horse, Mom,” Jamie said. “I was talking to Mrs Bunhoffer today – you know that pretty German lady, Oreo’s owner?”

  “Hmm,” said Arabella. She wasn’t listening. “What IS your father doing now?”

  There was a scraping, rasping noise. “Hell and Damnation,” cursed the prof. Something squawked, and he reappeared dragging an enormous bird cage. A bedraggled African Grey sat on the perch. “For you Toby,” said the prof, standing with his arms stretched out like a sexy model at a car show.

  “No, no, no!” Arabella exclaimed. “NO MORE PETS! I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. But you people never listen. Who cleans up after them and feeds them and picks up their poo? ME, that’s who!”

  The family ignored the ranting they’d heard so many times.

  “For me, Dad?” Toby asked. His geeky face was all lit up with joy. “I’ll put him in my room with Hawking. Maybe they’ll mate.”

  The parrot looked at him with its beady eyes. “Hell and Damnation,” it squawked. “Pi equals three point one four one five nine two six five.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Well maybe he can stay a while, until we find him a new home,” Arabella said. “Let me take a look at him.”

  She went over to the cage and began to undo the door.

  “Not such a good idea, my beautiful wife,” said the prof with a hiccup. “Doesn’t like ladies.”

  “Oh nonsense, I’ve treated hundreds of parrots. You’ve just got to handle them right.” She opened the cage door and reached for the parrot. He growled and scuttled away across his perch.

  “Come on, Boy,” she murmured. “Let me look at you.”

  The parrot bent his head and looked at the floor.

  “Do you want tickles?” Arabella asked, reaching out to scratch his head.

  He lunged at her, slicing her hand.

  “Ouch!” she squeaked. “He bit me!”

  Toby got up. “Let me,” he said, pushing his mother aside. He crouched down, murmuring softly. The parrot looked up at him and relaxed his ruffled feathers. Toby cautiously put his hand into the cage.

  “Up,” said Toby. “Up you get.”

  The parrot hopped onto Toby’s hand. Toby drew him out of the cage and held him, stroking his head.

  “We shall never surrender,” squawked the parrot in a deep resonant voice. “We will fight them on the beaches …”

  “What’s his name, Dad?” asked Tick.

  “Dr Horeheck called him after his favourite scien
tist, Richard Dawkins.”

  “That’s hilarious,” giggled Pan. “Now you’ve got Hawking and Dawkins. And they’ll both be squawking.”

  Dawkins rubbed his head against Toby’s finger. “We will NEVER surrender,” he said happily.

  “If Toby gets a new pet then I want one too,” Jamie said. “About my horse, Mom, Oreo is now for sale …”

  “Jamie, it will be years before you’ve saved enough for a horse,” Arabella said. “Let’s talk about it nearer to the time. Now who wants seconds of the Snotterbel?”

  “Fine,” said Jamie crossly when she and Pan were in her room after dinner. “If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I won’t talk about it. I’ll just sell everything I don’t want anymore and surprise her when I’ve got the full ten thousand rand.”

  “Good idea,” said Pan, opening Jamie’s wardrobe. “Now let’s see what you’ve got in here that we can sell.”

  4

  An unwelcome visitor

  “Jamie,” Arabella called up the stairs a few days later. “Unathi has taken a few days leave. I need someone to help me for a couple of hours.”

  Jamie jumped up eagerly. She was stuck on her maths homework and her drippy cousin, Fifi, commonly known as Fleaflea, was hanging around being annoying. Ever since her aunt got a new job, Fifi had to come over every day after school and Jamie never seemed to be able to get rid of her. But she wasn’t going to let her mother know how much she wanted the job.

  “I might be able to help. Will you pay me?” she called back.

  “Same as I pay you to pack away the dog food, fifty rand an hour,” Arabella said.

  “Sixty,” said Jamie. “And double for overtime. Horses are expensive, Mom.”

  “Thith, Jamie,” Fleaflea said, shaking her head as Jamie ran down the stairs. “You thhouldn’t athk your mommy for money. You thhould be a nithe, helpful girl.”

  Jamie ignored her. A few hours peace from Fleaflea and the chance to earn some money was just what she needed.